I show her all the sights—Big Ben, the London Eye, the National Gallery—but we find new ones as well, exploring the city in the way we like best.

That’s what we do when we’re home in New York too. We’ve tracked down bizarre street art in the Village, visited the Met and kissed in the Great Hall, and stopped by the underground gin joint in Chelsea.

Every day, we add to our list of favorite places in the city, and every night, she comes home with me because my home is her home now. The rollout of Haven has gone fantastically well, so well in fact that I’ve earned that extra comma and the billionaire status officially. As for Sabrina, her job brings her the satisfaction of doing exactly the kind of work she loves.

Then at night, it’s my job to bring her satisfaction, and that’s exactly what I love doing too.

Another Epilogue

Flynn

A little later

It is a Sunday.

We have brunch with my sister, her husband, and my little niece. Dylan and Evie join us too, and Evie regales us with how much French toast she can eat at eight and a half months pregnant.

When we’re done, we say our goodbyes and fan out across town, heading homeward. The sun shines brightly on this March day, so I suggest we walk through the park.

“Besides, we can let the lampposts guide us,” I say, and Sabrina furrows her brow in a silent question.

“Did you know most of the lampposts have numbers on them to help you find where you’re going?”

“I had no idea. But obviously, we need to verify this.”

“Clearly. Since the park is one of our favorites places.”

In the last several months, we’ve uncovered even more favorite places within it—the conservatory gardens, the literary walk with its statues of writers, and the Delacorte Musical Clock that sings a tune every thirty minutes.

We search for the lampposts, pointing out numbers to each other for the first few blocks as we head south.

She reaches for my hand. “Do you ever feel like we’ll run out of things to do?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Nope. There’s always something new to uncover.”

She smiles and rests her head briefly against my shoulder before looking at me as we walk toward the Ramble. “I suppose that’s true. We’ll always have to keep looking for things we haven’t seen.”

I press a kiss to her forehead, keying in on something she said. “Interesting word you just used.”

“What word?” she asks curiously. “Seen? Done?”

I shake my head. “A certain adverb, my grammar nerd.”

She scrunches her brow. “Always?”

“Yes. Always,” I say, looking ahead toward a bend in the path in the Ramble. I checked it out yesterday, and everything is the way I want it.

“Always is a nice word,” she adds, giving me a look that says she knows I’m up to something.

I am definitely up to something.